


Nichijou

by chockie



Series: Egotron Collection [1]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, LMAO, M/M, Making Out, Rough Kissing, pissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 08:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chockie/pseuds/chockie
Summary: Series of short one shots not in AU, just the normal universe. Each chapter covers one fic.Bear in mind that these were mostly written circa 2013 (about 4 years ago), so if the quality isn't exactly fantastic...





	1. Insomnia Pays Off

**Author's Note:**

> "Imagine person A of your OTP really needing to pee but not being able to get up because person B is asleep on top of them." -imagineyourotp

2am. A full hour after they had decided to retire- or rather, simply fall asleep on the couch.  _It works,_  Jon thought, scratching his face and folding his arms behind his head.  _Comfortable enough to sleep on is plenty good enough for me._

He turned his head a couple of degrees down and admired the curled up figure resting its head on his stomach and sighed. 

_He looks just so dang adorable asleep._

Arin rolled over, mumbling something just loud enough to hear a few words- “mmmphghg Jon”- but otherwise unintelligible sleep language. His body had left a visible empty spot on Jon’s shirt, a spot that started getting cold and missing his partner’s body heat. The larger man groaned (albeit a bit quietly, as not to disturb his sleeping friend) in slight annoyance and made a half hearted attempt to pull him back. At the touch of his arm trying half-assedly to get him back in the rapidly cooling spot, Arin mumbled into the pillow his face was buried in and rolled all the way back, half his body now on top of Jon. At the sudden change of weight, Jon huffed, then smiled softly, tenderly. He gave the arm that was dangling off the side of the couch off his body a quick squeeze and went back to staring at the ceiling. 

_Sure, insomnia can be a bitch and a half sometimes, but it’s times like this where it’s a real blessing._

He licked his lips and rolled his eyes to the left, watching the dimly flickering pause screen of Sonic 06. Look to the right, and the window that let some pretty bright moonlight shine through, the curtains only half closed. The stars, cliche or not, appeared to be sparkling, the moon’s crescent as bright as it had ever been. All the makings of a beautiful night, and served to make the experience for Jon all the more sweeter. He looked back at the screen and setup in front of the couch. Their controllers were cast aside on the floor, wires tangled up- just like they were. Or their limbs, at any rate. 

Jon took a brief peek again at their bodies. Arin, in his latest roll over, had bent one leg up close to Jon’s side and stretched the other one out, intertwining their feet.  _Just for shits and giggles…_ , Jon smirked to himself, twitching his toes. He started slowly, his piggy toe moving just shy of half a centimeter. The next twitch a little bit bigger, and the third twitch went all out. At the tiny movement, Arin giggled sleepily. 

_Score. God, his laugh…_

“Dude… stop it… haha, no, no… it tickles, stop…" 

His grin only stretched wider at the sleep speech Arin slurred into his chest. _I wonder what he’s dreaming about._  He closed his eyes again, sighing once more.  _I hope it’s something about me._

…

 

_Bzz._

Jon groaned. The alarm, again. Another morning. 

_Bzz._

So fucking persistent… 

_Bzz._

The too-bright sunlight shining through the window hurt to look at. And made it even more difficult to see jack shit.

He stretched an arm out to the coffee table, fumbling to wrap his fingers around the phone. The time? 8am. The third of April, a text message from Suzy telling Arin to drag his ass back home, and a- 

His eyes drooping closed, Jon’s fingers slipped and the phone hit the floor with a louder-than-expected clatter. He grunted, the sound serving as a secondary ‘alarm’ and waking him up properly. He brought his palm to his face and dragged it down, and tried to no avail to reach the phone without moving from the couch. With a disgusted "ech,” sound, he withdrew his arm and raised his eyes to the ceiling he had become familiar with the night before. 

“I guess it’s time to get out of bed, huh? Arin, move your sorry ass and wake the fuck up.”

Jon arched his back, interlocked his fingers and stretched- or at least tried to. Arin’s body was still slumped over his, and arms hugging his torso tightly, no less. 

“Aww, fuck, dude. C'mon.”

“Mmmmmfpgh.”

“Aaaaarin. Moooove.”

“…Early… too early…”

“Gueghhgehug. Fine. Whatever. Asshole.”

Stretching his arms as far as they could go (without trying to bustle Arin too much), he yawned and smacked his lips.  _He’s got a point, it is pretty damn early… 20 more minutes’ll do…_  Jon smiled to himself dreamily and drifted off back to sleep.

It wasn’t very long- about 5 minutes later, in fact- until Jon found himself cracking his eyelids open once again. 

“Awww… Shit, dude. I gotta take a piss.”

“Fuck you.”, Arin mumbled, feebly forming his left hand, which was on Jon’s chest, into a loose fist, and unenthusiastically attempted to punch him. 

“No, man, I’m serious. Like, I really fucking need to go, dude.”

“Too waaaarm. Don’t wanna.”

“I’m gonna piss myself, if you don’t fucking move right now, Arin.”

“I don’t wanna, though, you’re too warm…”

 _It’s a goddamn miracle I’m holding out this long… I feel like I’m going to fucking burst._  Jon thought nervously to himself. 

“Arin. That’s it man, I’m done. I can’t- I  can’t hold out any longer…”

“Noooo-”

“O-okay, that is  _it_ , I can ACTUALLY FEEL PEE COMING OUT OF MY PEE HOLE RIGHT NOW THAT’S IT I’M DONE I’M OUT-”

And out he was. Jon Jafari leapt off the couch with all the grace of a beautiful prancing elephant with a beard that just really needed to pee. He tore the blankets off and in a blur, gripping his crotch, he dashed for the bathroom. 

“…Shit dude, I can actually hear it from here.” Arin called out laughing, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

A minute later, the younger man returned to the room, a towel trailing dejectedly behind him with the tip of the towel grasped in his fingers. His head bowed, Jon said quietly,“I wasn’t fast enough, man.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I-…I was too slow.”

“You what?”

“I SOILED MYSELF, ARIN!”

“Pfft, what?”

“I DIDN’T MAKE IN TIME, DUDE!" 

"OHHHOHOHO NOOOOOOOO!”

“OHHH YES!”

They both laughed heartily for a solid ten minutes, Jon falling onto the couch with his shirt still crumpled and his shorts on sideways, one sock on the floor. 

“It’s  _all_  your fault, Arin.”

“Me? How is it  _my_  fault that  _you_  pissed yourself?!”

“YOU DIDN’T FUCKING GET OFF ME WHEN I ASKED YOU TO?”

“O-ohhh. Yeeeah. About that.”

“You fucking asshole, Arin.”


	2. some kissing happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine your OTP trying to make out for the first time, but Person A is shy and keeps pulling away from Person B, making them a little upset. But little does Person B know that Person A actually liked it and wants to try it again." -imagineyourotp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got abandoned halfway, apologies

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jon.”

 

His laughter rang clear in the little room. “Way to go to ruin the moment, asshole,” Jon Jafari quipped back to his partner. “I might be a fucking idiot, but I make up for that in other areas, you know…” His eyes smoldering, deep brown and eyebrows raised, a rather smug grin plastered on his face. Arin felt his face flush. A stupid thing to be blushing at, for sure, but he had a soft spot for those eyes. 

“Y- you wish you could. I’m willing to put down five- no,  _ten_  bucks that you finish in less than a minute. Pathetic!” He laughed, a little too heartily, making it just a little bit  _too_  obvious he was only trying to cover up his embarrassment. It didn’t go unnoticed, and Jon turned fully to face him, his eyes flickering with a hint of something Arin simply couldn’t put his finger on. He only knew that it was making him flush even more. 

The smug grin Jon had had melted away as he watched Arin fidget, being instead replaced by a genuine, innocent smile. 

“You look pretty cute when you’re flustered.”

Jon turned back to the screen, wiping his hands on his pants. He leaned over, maybe a little bit too close, to Arin’s ear. 

“I like it when you’re flustered." 

The simple sentence brought with it cool breath while Jon held his posture a few seconds too long, the silence almost tangible. Arin remained completely still, his face still completely flushed, if not more so than before. 

It was quiet for a minute, as Arin watched Jon play the game. The blushing had stopped, and he didn’t feel as hot as before, but he could still feel it in the air. The tension. 

"Jon?”

“Huh?”

“Jon.”

“What?”

The bearded man turned to face him, inquisitively. Arin instinctively turned his eyes away as they met, the flush forming again in his cheeks. 

_It’s now or never, man. You have his attention. The game is paused, he’s looking at you with those beautiful eyes, just… Just…321go-_

He leaned in, and cupped his hand around the back of Jon’s head, pulling him closer. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time, Jon…” He said, huskily. 

“Do wha-,” Jon was cut off by Arin’s lips meeting his, his tongue exploring the insides of his mouth. Saliva mingled, and Jon hit back, his own tongue seemingly getting over the initial surprise and touching Arin’s. What seemed like forever to Arin finally ended, and he pulled back, breathing heavily. A single string of spit joined their mouths and Jon wiped his mout with his forearm. 

“Fuck, dude. I didn’t know you wanted to do…  _that_. Am I seriously that attractive?”

“I…”

But before he could think of a reply, Jon grinned. 

“You want to play that game? We’ll  _play_  that game, alright. Oh, we’ll be playing it.”

“Wait, Jon, no-”

But it was Arin’s turn to be cut off. Jon went deep, his tongue tickling the base of Arin’s throat, lips mashing against each other, every break only a second for a deep breath to be gone down on again. It was so rough, so fast, so… so good. Jon, he could tell, was tiring, though, and the next time he pulled back for air, Arin let himself drop  onto the sofa. 

With a light laugh that just made Arin smile dreamily, Jon turned to face Arin, admiring his work. 

Arin’s hair was fucked up to the heavens, his tshirt crooked and messy, and his lips were swollen from how hard Jon had been biting on. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were blank, half lidded, but he was smiling, alright. 

“You look so gorgeous like that. I could just kiss you, and run my fingers down your cheek, and rub my hands all over your beautiful warm body…”

With every word, his body accompanied an action, and by “warm body” Jon was more or less on top of Arin, one arm holding Arin’s head and the other touching his chest. 

“C'mere, you sexy son of a bitch, you.”

Jon dived. A bite here, a nibble there, and kisses everywhere. He kept returning to his lips, though, kissing them over and over…

“Nmmmnno, Jon…” Under Jon’s spirited lavishings, Arin mumbled, his lips now pursed. Jon paused, mid-kiss. 

“Stop it, I don’t wanna…" 

"But I thought you wanted to? Arin, what the fuck, man?”

“No, you don’t get it, I fucking wanted to do that for the longest time, but…”

“You were leading me on?”

“Shit, dude, I just don’t know how to say-”


	3. pretty boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine Person A of your OTP needing to get glasses, but is afraid of how Person B will react. In the end Person B thinks they look as adorable as ever, but are glad Person A won’t be bumping into anymore objects." -imagineyourotp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue only

“Are you sure about this, Arin?”

 

“Yeah, trust me. Glasses are cooler than contacts, dude.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Shh, shshsh. Shh.”

“But-”

“I said fucking shh god damn it.”

“…”

“Look, see, there are lots of different choices. This one looks pretty cool, black rims. Classy as fuck.”

“…”

“C'mon, man. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Me? An asshole? Seriously? You’re making- no,  _forcing_  me to wear glasses! I’m gonna look like a stupid fucking nerd! GLASSES WITHOUT CONSENT! IT’S GRAPE! GRAAAAAAPE!”

“Very funny, but seriously man. You would look cute in glasses. Just pick one.”

“…”

“Seriously. I mean it.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Yeah. I mean it. How about these ones? Aviator glasses.”

“That looks fucking retarded.”

“Red rims?”

“Can you not, Arin? Can we leeeeeeeaaaave?”

“Jon.”

“Aaaaaaaaaarin.”

“I’m sick of you complaining to me about bumping into things. And sick of being your fucking nurse.”

“But I liiiiiike you being my nurse.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“But it’s fuuun! You give me soup and blankets and kiss my boo-boos when I get hurt!”

“Y-yeah, well, shut up. You’re making a scene, Jon.”

“And cuddle me and kiss everything all better!”

“I said shut the fuck up, god damn it.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaariiiiiiin!”

“Just choose a fucking pair of glasses already and we can go.”

“But Aaaarin!”

“What? You want to stay here now?”

“Yeeeeeah.”

“Seriously? Just choose a fucking pair of glasses, oh my _god_.”

“Mmmm. What do you think looks better on me?”

“Uhh… Rimless?”

“Hmmm… nah.”

“Godfuckingdamn it, Jon.”

“Well excuuuuuuuuse me, Mrs. ‘Just Pick One’, I just want to look pretty for you!”

“W-well, don’t be a fucking idiot about it.”

“ _I’m_  being a fucking idiot? Oh, I  _see_  how it is. How about we just leave here right now, no glasses, and we can just close this chapter and forget about it?”

“Jon, your bad vision is literally impairing you physically. You need to fix it.”

“Whhhhyyyyyyy?”

“B-because just fucking choose one already.”

“Whyyy, Arin?”

“…”

“C'mon, stop being so anal about this. Just tell me why I should get glasses and we can settle on one and go! I swear!”

“B-because I care about you and I don’t want you getting hurt anymore, e-even if they’re just little bumps. You’re too much of a good person to have any kind of hurt. I love you, Jon.”

“R-really? You know there are strangers looking at you right now?”

“Yeah, well, I love you, Jon Jafari, and I’ll be fucking proud of it if I want to.”

“That’s your reason?”

“Oh, and I forgot to mention. I’m sick of bringing you soup, you don’t even need it if you get a bruise, dude.”

“You know you like putting on that nurse kit.”

“O-okay, you’re getting a little  _too_  graphic for the public, thanks.”

“Making you uncomfortable now, am I? Hmmmm?”

“…”

“What are you doing?”

“…”

“Aaaaaaaarin!”

“There, fucking done. You can have these glasses, like it or not. At least now you’ll stop fucking bumping into things, like seriously that fucking lamp? Seriously, dude?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaarin! I liked the red ones more though!”

“Just get in the fucking car.”


	4. Nanogrumpology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by some science essay i was writing, long forgotten now, years later :')

A dressing room with whitewashed walls. The two men inside didn’t see these walls very often at all- maybe every few months at best. Clothes shopping had never been their area of expertise- Arin tended to leave that to Suzy. Jon had to leave it to his mom. 

The two laughed as Arin picked up a tight fitting short sleeved black shirt, striking a dainty pose, one leg stuck out behind him while mock-modeling it, fluttering his eyelashes at his friend.

“What do you think, baby?”

“Looking good, hon.” Jon barely managed, before doubling over in laughter. 

“Hmm… Nah.” The taller man tossed the shirt aside with a quick flick of his wrist, the shirt flying and wrapping itself around Jon’s face. 

He peeled it off, in-between bouts of laughter. “C-c'mon, put it on! Gimme a real show, I know you can." 

"Oh, you want a  _show_? I’ll  _give_  you a show.” Arin’s body shifted into a girlish pose, his butt sticking out slightly with his feet turned inwards, one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, a finger outstretched and his tongue touching the tip.

Arin sighed, “Eh… this pose looked better in my mind.” He straightened and strode to Jon who was sitting on a small stool in the corner of the changing room. 

“I’ll have that, thank you.” With that, he swiped up the slightly rumpled shirt that was clasped in Jon’s fingers, and pulled it over his head properly. 

All this time, Jon could only stare in awe. When Arin struck the feminine pose, he couldn’t help but put his hands to his eyes to hide the smirk- and blush?- but he peeked out through his fingers anyway. When he grabbed the shirt, he yelped in surprise but pulled his hands away from his face. 

“Are you actually… actually gonna put that on? Dude, it’s girly as fuck!” A smile etched itself onto Jon’s face without his permission and he tried to keep it under control to no avail as Arin struck another pose, this time accompanied with pouty lips. The shirt Arin was wearing underneath the tight fitting one was bigger than it was, though, and looked ridiculous. Jon told him as much, between chuckles. 

“Oh, so you want me to take it off?" 

"Pfftch, yeah, duh, how else can you show off your sexy bod?”

Both of them started laughing at that, and Arin made no show as he took off both shirts again, putting the tight fitting one on. 

“How’s this?”

A genuine pose, his eyes searching for real feedback, and Jon felt blood rush to his cheeks. The shirt outlined every detail on his friend’s torso, some ‘details’ more evident than others but he forced himself to draw his eyes away.  _There’s a time and place for everything, Jon Jafari, and this is_ not _it._  He exhaled and closed his eyes, then opened again, training his eyes on his friend’s, 

“Well?" 

"Looking just as drop dead sexy as ever, beautiful." 

"Real talk?” Arin looked curiously at Jon for a minute, his expression unreadable. 

“Yeah, no, seriously, it looks pretty cool, I-I guess.”

“Okay, do me a solid and just put it in the cart, then. Suzy might like it, I dunno." 

Wordlessly, but a soft smile on his face, Jon picked up the shirt Arin threw away to the side and folded it, placing it carefully in the cart. 

"What about this? Looks pretty normal.”

“What about it?”

“Shit, dude!”

“What is it?”

“It costs like, two hundred dollars.”

“What the fuck? Let me see that.”

“Shit, man, what’s the big deal about this shirt?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

Their voices grew to a murmur as Jon turned the shirt over in his hands. 

“I think I know why it might be so pricey.”

“Y'think?”

“Yeah, I think I read about this. It’s crazy, I know, but I think it just  _might_  be like, this nanotech stuff that I read about.”

“Nanotech?”

“Yeah, like, nanoparticles. Some guys in China made a shirt or something out of it and it’s stain repellent. Made of titanium oxide, silver iodide tossed in. It cleans itself when you go in the sun. Pretty cool stuff.”

“And it’s in chain stores already?”

“Yeah, well, who are you to judge their invention?”

“Fair enough. Want me to try it on, baby cakes?”

“You know it, Arin Handsome.” Jon made a pathetic attempt at a wink and they both laughed as he handed the plain white-grey cotton tshirt to Arin. 

He pulled the shirt over his head once again and Jon watched, taking a sip from the espresso he held nonchalantly. As Arin finished putting the shirt on, however, he looked at the espresso again, then back to Arin. One more brief glance, and then his eyes lit up. 

“Hey, Arin…”

“Yeah, dude?”

“C'mere a sec.”

“Yeah, what’s up-”

Jon interrupted his query with a gleeful smirk and he threw his now-opened1 coffee cup at his torso.

“ _Shit_ , what the fuck, man?”

“Look, no, calm down, look at your shirt.”

They looked down at Arin’s chest and sure enough, the stain simply rolled off the shirt as if it were a reflective surface. 

“Dude, that… that is cool.”

“Yeah, man, it’s pretty gr- Oh, shit, your pants aren’t-”

“YEAH, I KNOW, SHERLOCK, SHIT, MY PANTS. OW. OH MY GOD. HOLY FUCK, IT BURNS MY PENIS, OH MY GOD, OW PAIN-”

Arin screamed, his hand gripping his crotch as the steaming coffee’s stain grew on the crotch of his pants. Jon retained a serious face, let out a genuine-sounding,“Are you okay, friend?” before losing it and falling to floor in hysterics. 

“Jesus christ, oh my god Arin, your fucking  _FACE_. I need a picture of this right now…” With shaking hands, Jon fumbled in his pockets until his phone tumbled out and he managed to catch a shaking snapshot of the moment, mid-“ _Fuck you_ , Jon”. 

 


	5. Cumulus Trails

“Aaaarin…”

Jon stretched his arms and yawned, smacking his lips and then rolling onto the bed and stretching again, this time arching his back.

“Why do we have to go out that way?”

“Because this isn’t our house, and Suzy and Barry and Alex and everyone are here. We gotta be considerate, dude.” Arin grabbed Jon’s wrist and pulled him off the bed.

“C’mon, big boy, let’s go.”

“But do we seriously have to go out the window? There’s gotta be a more conventional way of doing this, man.”

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his stomach.

Arin sighed and said nothing, opening the window and pulling a chair up to the wall.

“We’re lucky we got the basement, don’t have to worry about making sound on the floorboards or some shit.”

“Yeeeah.. Let’s just hurry up and goooo. I’m so sleeepy. It’s 2am.” Jon brushed himself off and rubbed his eyes again, lumbering over to the chair propped up to the window. “You go first.”

“Wait, wait, it’s gonna be pretty chilly out there. You gonna bring a jacket?”

“Nah… whatever, man.”

Arin shrugged and pulled himself out of the window, bringing his body to its full height on the asphalt. The moonlight allowed for just enough visibility for him to see the way to the river, but it might be a bit too dark to walk alone. The streetlights being off at this time he thought was ridiculous-  _Fucking Canadians_. He had to admire the night sky, though. The Canadian skies weren’t polluted like Florida, or California, or anywhere he had seen, for that matter. The stars were crystal clear and shone brightly through the soft wisps of clouds. His admiring was promptly interrupted, however, by the sound of Jon struggling to pull himself through the window.

“Aaaaariiin, I told you we should have gone out the door, ya fuckass…” He groaned and pawed at the pavement that was available to him.

Arin bent down and laughed.

“C’mere, fatty. Give me your hand.”

His hand wrapped tightly around Jon’s wrist and Jon did the same to him, forming a strong grip, and Arin heaved. Jon’s eyes shot open, but he didn’t budge.  _Heeeeave._  Nothing, still.  _One more time…_

“HeeeeeeEAAhgehgrh-“ and Jon popped through the small window and they tumbled onto the road laughing.

Arin picked himself up and dusted himself off, then turned to look at his friend still sprawled on the ground giggling. He offered his hand again, with a soft smile.

 

“We going?”

 

* * *

Jon managed to convince them both that in order not to get caught, they had to sneak to the river and be like spies.

“We’re like ninjas, Arin! We gotta go fast but we have to be stealthy. The stealthiest, most surreptitious ninjas in town… Spy Grumps!” He laughed.

“What was that you were saying about being quiet and stealthy again?” Arin sighed, though an amused smile on his face.

“Oh yeah…” Jon bent his back and stood on his toes. He started singing the Pink Panther theme, and Arin smirked. He loped alongside him, not bothering to do the same, but he was enjoying himself.

 

After a bit longer than it should have been, they reached the river. It was only a couple of minute’s walk from the place they were staying, but they had reached the park. The grass was soft between their toes, and a little bit damp with the morning dew that was starting to form.

 

“I can see the river, c’mon.” Arin started running down the slightly sloping river bank and almost slipped but picked himself back up, and once he reached the edge of the river he slid to a halt, turning around to look for his friend.

Jon was walking slowly, his eyes cast only skywards, only now realizing the incredible beauty of the sky. Arin watched his friend bumble over and approach him slowly.  _He looks so adorable, just that look of wonderment on his face._

 

Finally, they had reached the riverbank, and Jon promptly sat down on the grass by Arin’s side. Arin sat down too, cross legged. They sat there in silence for a while and listened to the sounds of the river which, during this time of year, bubbled rather than flowed. There were the night sounds too, of course- crickets, one dog that just couldn’t go to sleep and kept barking, the tall blades of grass and the leaves of the big oak trees rustling- it was so… so  _zen_. Arin closed his eyes, but opened again when he heard a different kind of rustling. Jon had scooted over on his butt to be closer to Arin’s side and they were sitting a couple of inches away from each other. Arin smiled to himself and pretended not to notice his friend’s blushing face, only made clear and illuminated in the moonlight.

 

“It’s really, uh, beautiful, out here.” Jon broke the silence, the stammer apparent even to him.

“Yeah… yeah, it is pretty gorgeous.”

They were quiet for a few more minutes, Jon taking his time to finish the race of the last of the distance between them, until their sides were touching.

Jon sighed and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder.

 

“S’bit cold, Arin.” He said quietly.

“Yeah… Probably has something to do with it being in the middle of fucking winter and all that, y'know?” Arin sniffed.

“Mmmm… What if it snows?”

“Probably won’t, y'know. We’re only stopping by here til we get to the next place. It doesn’t snow in Vancouver.”

“It still miiiight.”

 

They were quiet again. They didn’t know how much time had passed, and they didn’t want to. For them, time was infinite in this place. It felt like they were the only two people in the world and both liked it that way.

 

The clouds overhead started to gather, unbeknownst to the two. They grew from wisps to noticeable cloud shapes, and only got thicker from there on out. They grouped together and it only got colder. Jon tried to huddle up to Arin’s side but the chill had a visible effect on them both and their faces, their noses and the tips of their ears became flushed.

 

Not a minute or so later, a single snowflake drifted waywardly from behind into their lines of vision.

“Hey, it’s a snowflake… Told you it would snow.”

It landed gently on the tip of Jon’s nose and melted into a tiny drop of water instantly.

“Heh… tickles.”

Arin smiled and turned to face his friend, and kissed the tip of his nose.

 

“Thanks for taking me out here, Arin. It was great.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”


	6. In the Whole Wide World

Arin’s eyes opened to the sound of birds down the street. It was a Sunday morning and the sun was merciless, even with their blinds mostly closed. He felt quite self conscious of himself because he suddenly realized he was naked. Very naked. Save for the little corner of his blanket, the rest of it taken up by-

The rest of it taken up by Jon. 

Everything came flooding back to him. Everything from last night. He felt his face flush involuntarily at the influx of memories that had been temporarily forgotten in the midst of his Sunday morning haze.

He remembered both of them locked in the throes of passion last night and his skin tingled, localizing at the center of his body and between his legs and if he thought he couldn’t blush anymore before, he was dead wrong. Arin rolled over onto his side and curled his right leg to cover his embarrassment. 

Annnnd… also to look at the sleeping form of his partner.

He couldn’t hold back a smile when his eyes took in the sight of the scruffy younger man (his growing-long hair even more of a mess than usual) with his eyes shut. Their bodies were so close together Arin felt the soft cold breath from him on his own skin and his hair rose and he felt goosebumps race across his arms.

There was some hair from Jon’s bangs that was falling on his nose and it kept twitching. The sleepy but definitely awake man thought it reminded him of a rabbit’s nose and beamed inside to himself. It was adorable, but even as he thought that Jon’s face twisted into a rather uncharacteristically grumpy face.  _Tickling his nose,_  Arin realized and chuckled quietly as he brushed them away gently. His partner’s nose twitched again, and again, and then a tiny sneeze. It was heart-wrenchingly cute, and he could feel the organ in question beating out of his chest as he watched the other man snooze the morning away.

Arin snuggled a little closer, just a bit, and felt Jon turn towards him, extending an arm (probably just on instinct, he had to tell himself) to drape over his body. It was very warm. The bearded man exhaled, snuffled his nose into Arin’s chest and started snoring very quietly. 

Arin wished it could stay like that forever.

“Love you, Jon.”

For a second, it seemed like Jon had lifted his eyelids just a crack.

“Trying to sleep, fuckhead.” He groaned, and not skipping a beat, the snoring continued. 

Arin said nothing in return, just sharing a secret smile with himself at the innocent but wonderful, just wonderful sensation of being with his best friend in the whole world. 


	7. flushed but always pretty, probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is cutting it close for being family friendly but hmmmmmmmmm

Jon crashed into his friend’s room, his feet stumbling and tripping over each other and his eyes unfocused. The lights were dimmed, except for a low light coming from Suzy’s vanity dresser, and nothing could be heard except for a quiet humming. It was coming from the cheap tubelight held high above the mirror, and he blundered onto the large, comfy double bed, falling spreadeagled in the center. Suzy was out, and Arin… Arin, his sexy, lovely, friend Arin was nowhere to be seen. Jon inhaled deeply and he caught a whiff of his masculine scent on the bedsheets and he shivered.  _Speaking of scent…_  Jon knew he was probably getting the stench of alcohol all over the bed, but he didn’t really care that much, because if his plans went to fruition someone else would be able to take the scent off him and get it all over them anyhow. That was how it worked, right? In his drunken haze, he couldn’t tell much at all, but he didn’t really care. Just wanted to get his more base urges out and satisfied. 

So that was how Arin found Jon, in his room. A “draw me like one of your French girls,” pose, a (supposedly) seductive pose where the seducer was sprawled sideways, head resting on one palm, and somebody wasn’t trying to conceal the obvious bulge in his pants and it was all just too hilarious for Arin and he felt laughter bubbling up. It wasn’t just “haha this is funny” laughter but also, very much so (if not even more so) “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON SO I WILL LAUGH” laughter. And out it came, in waves, and Jon looked a little hurt. 

“You don’t think I look preeeeeetty, Aaaaaaarin?” He slurred and his face fell and lips formed a mock pout. 

Arin was running out of breath and his guffaws had died down, leaving him choking and coughing in the process. 

“Oh, no, I think you look simply st-stunning…”, he croaked out, his sentence interrupted by wheezing every other word. He fell against the doorway and tried to support himself, barely able to stand up. One elbow balancing on the edge of the doorway, the other hand clasped on his knee, and he felt himself shudder violently before the insane laughter came to a halt. 

Arin wiped a tear away from the corner of his eyes and then his vision focused on a prowling Jon, reminiscent of a certain predatory animal. 

“Well, I think you look even more gorgeous, gorgeous… You in your ssslutty red dress, just begging for CAWKS, Arin… Hey…”, and Jon was upon him in an instant, his body roaming the curves of his body inside the tight fitting garment. “Dance with me?” A leer was plastered on Jon’s face and in that moment Arin knew he wasn’t kidding. 

Arin felt his body being rolled inside the room and onto an adjacent wall and he was pinned to it, the only thing between him and this lust crazed object before him. He had only come back from a costume party and had pulled out the usual cross-dressing kit but he could feel the dress now being treated a lot rougher than it was made for. The bearded man made a shaky grab for the pearls around his neck and pulled their faces close together. 

“J-Jon?” Arin uttered out the side of his mouth. “Could you, uh, maybe back off a li-" 

Something was stuffed in his mouth. Cold, cold fingers, just two ( _for the time being?_ ) and they were Jon’s and he was laughing like a fucking psycho, and Arin felt his mouth responding as it had practiced so often before and found itself sucking on them back, coating them with saliva for what usually…

"What u-usually… co- c- comes next…” Arin muttered under his breath, and felt his body relaxing and his dick raising its flag and he pushed into the heavy warm mass on top of him and he bit on the fingers that were exploring his mouth and a little in his throat and with a muted yelp of pain they were withdrawn. 

“Wh-what the fuck, dude? That hurt-”, but his words were cut off by Arin’s lips on his and he felt blood rushing into his cheeks and it was all so hot, so so hot, Arin  _rubbing_  on him and grinding and  _oh, oh god–_


	8. Fluffpile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> implied polygrumps kinda here i guess?

“I’m trying to work, man!” Arin shouldered his friend who seemed to be trying to get as much of his (maybe a little heavy) body off himself, dropping his pen to the floor. He had to hide a grin, though, as he jabbed a merciless finger at Jon and then at the pen, and sternly told him to pick it up.

“I’m not going to wait here all day, you know.” He crossed his arms in mock anger and pouted.

“Nnnnooooooo! Aaaarin, let’s watch like, Game of Thrones, or something! C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Jon whined and pawed at his best friend’s face. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. Come  _onnn_ , dude.”

"At least pick up the pen first, ya jackass.”

Begrudgingly, the bearded man crouched down to the floor and curled his fingers around it, offering it to Arin, eyes purposely shied away.

“There.” He spoke out of the side of his mouth, pretending to be angry, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t ever be angry at the love of his life, the person who made him feel complete and he smiled brightly at him, his fake tantrum cracking. Just as he reached for the pen, Jon lurched forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the neck of his partner and swung him out of his chair, staring into his eyes for a brief moment before kissing his forehead tenderly. Arin felt his feet still off the ground and shook his bare toes in the cool air before patting his friend on the shoulder awkwardly from behind, their lips still locked in their sudden moment of affection.

Jon’s eyes opened, half lidded, his pupils large.

“Mmmm?” He drew his mouth away and a string of saliva connected them, feeling as romantic as it was cliche-tired.

“Do me a favor and put me down, yeah? There’s no fuckin’ need to pick me up.”

With a sheepish smile, Arin watched his partner gently put him down on solid ground once more.

“Look, see. I’m like, three inches taller than you, even. The fuck, dude.”

Jon’s faced tensed up for a moment- a little nervous that he was actually angry- but the smile in his face returned when he saw that Arin was only joking. The taller man wiped away the saliva with the back of his hand.

“What brought on this sudden bout of affection anyway? Not that I mind, but I was just wondering. It’s, like, pretty out of the blue.” He wrapped his arms around Jon’s waist as he said it, and stared into his eyes.

“I dunno. I’m going to see Nicole for a couple weeks, remember? I figured it would be nice to get as much of you as I can still get until I leave.” Jon scratched the back of his head and kissed Arin’s nose gently.

“Mmmm. Yeah. I getcha.”

Both of them thought it was nice to feel the other’s arms wrapped around their bodies.

*

The two men were laying in bed, Jon curled up to Arin’s side and both of their eyes on the television before them. There were blankets and pillows everywhere and it was a mess of soft,  _floof_ -y laundry- the results of their brief attempt at creating a pillow fort for them to cuddle in, before giving in and just playing video games. It was 3am.

“Aaaarin?” Jon rolled over onto his back away from the swathes of laundry his friend was sitting in and right onto a few squishy pillows, yawning and stretching his body.

“…Yeah?” He said sleepily, his thumbs barely moving the analog sticks of his controller, enough for the character on screen to walk slowly, but not much more.

“We should, like, totally make a fuckin’ huge-ass room and just…”

“Just what?”

“… Just, like, fill it with freshly laundered blankets and lots of pillows. And put those things that you get in baby cribs, but for adults, I guess.”

“You mean, uh, mobiles? What would they even have on them if they were for adults?”

Lazily, Jon log-rolled back into his friend. The impact, luckily for the both of them, was cushioned by the softness they were in.

“Mmmmmmnmnnnnnm.” And he breathed out through his nose on Arin’s chest, the heat spreading slowly and then receding as he breathed in again.

“I guess…” Arin stared thoughtfully into space. “It’s a pretty good idea. We could get all the gang- Nicole too, invite her over from NY, yeah?- and just have a giant cuddle fest.”

“This is so lame.” Jon giggled, and then closed his eyes as he wriggled closer towards his friend.

There was silence between them for a while, as Arin’s motor skills taking the control began to slacken when he started to drift off. The character on screen idled, jumping into a little dance every so often, but one of them had their eyes closed and the only thing the other could see was his partner’s side, and neither paid the game any heed.

“Love you.” Jon mumbled quietly. He dropped to sleep almost instantly.


	9. "they're just spammers, dude"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst; what i imagined took place when jon left

Jon sat at his desk, his chin resting in his hands.

_fufkcing piec of shit johntron you were never funny on game grumps_

_To be completely honest, I think Dan is better than Jon. He stopped being funny after Episode 20 of Sonic 06._

_i’m sort of glad he’s gone tbh it feels alot freer_

It was hard to keep his chin up, even when he expected this. He had fully expected this backlash, yet it was still hitting him hard- hard enough that he could barely ignore the comments being posted on his channel. Hard enough that he couldn’t stop himself from going back to the Game Grumps channel that no longer had him involved. Hard enough that he couldn’t stop himself from maybe tearing up a little bit when he saw people liked Dan better, couldn’t stop himself from putting his head in his hands and regretting everything he had ever done- was it really worth it? Did he really have to leave the show if-

Ringing from his Skype client echoed through his editing room- the walls closer together than what he had in Cali, but cramped space was to be expected in NY. The chiming sound was unfamiliar- he hadn’t received a Skype call in ages. It only really caught his attention, however, when he saw it was him.

It was Arin. The contact still saved as “Egoraptor”- they had had no need to call via Skype since Game Grumps started, since he had moved. 

“Why would he be calling when he has my-" 

He looked at his phone, on his desk. Of course he couldn’t call his cell. He was on the other side of the country. 

 _Right_. 

The call continued to ring, the window jumping around insisting that he answer, click the enticing green button to put the call through, but he had to hesitate. 

_It’s been a few hours. I thought-_

_I thought…?_

His thoughts scrambled, his mind a whirlpool, and his palm was sweating, he moved his cursor to answer the call before logic would kick the door down to tell him it was a bad idea.

The second of silence before the call was put through was agonizing. 

_What does he want?_

_Is there something wrong?_

_Is he going to_ rub it in _?!_

_I miss him so much, oh god-_

And then he heard his voice.

"Hey, man.”

Thank god it wasn’t a video call, because then Arin didn’t have to see Jon swallow nervously.

“Hey. Why’d you-”

“Are you okay?”

The note of concern made him even more anxious. Jon couldn’t even fathom why-

“Because I saw some of those comments- on your channel, your Jontron channel, I mean- and, like, uh, I mean-”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, no, I’m totally fine, dude. Why do you ask, haha?" 

His laugh was so obviously fake, so obviously forced he wanted to punch himself in the teeth so he didn’t have to laugh ever again.

"Listen, I just-” On his end, he could hear Arin’s stutter through the poor quality of the program. 

“I just- wanted to let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, what?”

“They’re just spammers, dude.”

“Well, yeah. Haha. Duh.” Jon’s voice was a bit higher than it usually was. A lot higher, actually. He was 90% sure Arin could hear it. Especially with his “duh,” that had sounded almost squeaky. 

“And, uh, like.”

Jon stared at the little window in the top right corner of his screen, indicating that the call had only been going on for half a minute. The silences between each sentence exchanged felt like they stretched for hours. 

“Like… I love you. Okay?” Arin said gruffly. 

_uh_

Jon clenched his hands into fists. 

_oh, god_

“I love you too, man.”

He had to force it out a little but it felt so, so good to finally say out loud.

“I- I’m sorry for not saying it sooner. I mean, like, Suzy and Barry and everyone and everything and just-”

“Nah, man. I understand. It’s okay, I- would have done the same thing, and all, yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while, almost companionably, Jon listening to the soft ambience on Arin’s end of the call and presumably, Arin doing the same. 

“I hope you don’t feel like I replaced you.”

The words came like a hammer falling in their silence and he felt his quiet satisfaction from their “I love you,"s be shattered. He felt a lump grow in his throat, he felt the corners  of his eyes grow wet and his emotions just welling up, threatening to spill out. Spill out they did.

"Replaced? Me? Oh, no, not at all, I don’t feel replaced at all, besides the whole new "not so grump” and all because it’s not like I’ve retained that- that title, for like- what, a whole year? Right before a year of Game Grumps, a whole fuckin’ anniversary. Yeah. No, I don’t feel replaced, Arin. I  _don’t_.“

Arin felt the hurt and that repressed pain in Jon’s voice and he nearly choked. He was already choked up anyway, though- the screen was blurry because he started silently crying the moment he heard Jon say "I love you too.”

“Listen, I’m sorry-” he tried to speak, but he felt his own voice drowned out by the sound of Jon sobbing unevenly, slurring a little bit on the other hand. He heard words tumbling out. 

“Yeah, Arin, I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I ever thought we were friends, I’m sorry I ever thought we were more than friends. I’m sorry I thought we were made for each other, because I- I finally see how easy it is for you to replace me. Just-” and Arin heard a finger snapping, a bit distantly because Jon was far from the mic, he was walking away, walking out of the room.

“Like that.” And the door slammed, and Arin was alone in the call. 

He felt broken. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

But he knew he had to do something.

•

Jon went to bed at 3am. He felt Nicole’s warmth next to him, and it was reassuring- but barely enough. When she mumbled to him, asking what was wrong, he couldn’t reply because he was still choked up with sobs. She left him alone after that. 

When he woke up, he made it a point to not even open the door to his study. 

He went through his entire Saturday, his entire routine, shuffling to the kitchen to make breakfast, feeding Jacques and lying on the couch for a couple of hours, playing with his feathers before he finally stood up and announced that he was going to livestream with Shane like he promised, like they had scheduled. 

Before the stream began, a couple of hours before it was going to happen, he called his friend up. 

“Shane, bring drinks.”

“Jon? Is that you? Are you okay?" 

"Bring drinks. Alcohol. Anything.”

He terminated the call before he could hear any more. 

Shane arrived, and Jon opened the door to his Brit friend carrying a case of beer and a bottle of vodka. 

“Dude, listen, if you need-”

Jon put on his best ‘I’m okay, I’m fine’ face and took the case and the bottle. His fingers held them a little tighter than he would have, and it did not go unnoticed by Shane. 

“Hey, come on in! Great to see you. Sit down, I already set up the equipment." 

The overly cheery demeanor was disturbing. Regardless, he stepped carefully inside- as if he felt the wrong step might blow up this Jon minefield he wasn’t accustomed to. 

As Shane wandered into the living room, he noticed that it was hooked up to Jon’s laptop, not the desktop that they usually used. In fact, the desktop in question had its monitor completely dimmed. His phone, similarly, was discarded negligently, buzzing every so often with a notification that Shane had to force himself not to read. 

Jon entered the room himself with two bottles of beer. He tossed it into Shane’s hands and he just managed to catch them.

The stream began.

It was a disaster. 


	10. Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spot of angst at the end, be warned :')

Six, almost seven months since they started the channel.  _A whole half year_ , Jon thought with a small smile on his face,  _of gamin’ and grumpin’. Unbelievable._

He looked out over Arin’s driveway, tracing with his finger the drops of rainwater pouring down the glass from the other side of the door. A roll of thunder sounded from the heavens, far overhead and even farther away. The man noted that lightning didn’t even register on the bleak, apocalypse-esque looking horizon- hard to believe that it was only 2 in the grey Thursday afternoon.

Finally, the rain pattering- drumming- on the windows was not the only audible noise, the distant flushing sound from the upstairs bathroom making itself known. Jon smiled and turned from the door, taking his now familiar spot on the couch and picking up the discarded controller. The sound of enthusiastic footsteps making another source of drumming down the stairs was welcoming- Arin had seemed a little off color in the morning (on Valentine’s Day, no less, although he definitely didn’t fall for the money grabber “holiday”) and to be honest, it was reassuring to see the smile on his face again.

The very face he pictured in his mind plopped onto the couch next to him, the smile just as he had imagined, and a wave of warmth inexplicably shook him to the core. Helpful in the least forgiving month of the year, as well, and his grin widened.

“How was the poop?”

“Legitimately incredible.”

They shared a giggle, something that didn’t happen often, and Jon let out a relieved sigh as a result. Something that he hadn’t meant to do, but hoped that his friend’s attention was not perked.

It was lame, he knew it was just ridiculous, but…

_Fuckin’ Valentine’s Day._   
_I mean, like, I don’t even believe in that stupid shit, but- but-_

Heat glowed across his cheeks, like a match being struck. He hoped the redness wasn’t too obvious, because considering that he was consciously lessening the gap between them as Arin obliviously rambled about whatever-the-fuck they were playing and he just  _didn’t know_  what he was trying to accomplish as Jon stretched his arm and fake-yawned and felt his arm naturally fall into place around his best friend’s shoulders and he was blushing so hotly he could just melt like the cold sweat-

“You okay?” The very object of his nervousness and tension turned to face him, a concerned look (so  _sweet_ ) evident in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” The bearded man withdrew his arm hastily.

 _What the_ fuck _were you_ thinking _, Jafari?!_

“L-listen, I gotta get some air. I’ll be right-”

“Dude, it’s fuckin’ pouring outside. What’s up?” The concern became something else entirely- a nervousness to rival Jon’s own. 

He swallowed.

“Raining?”

“Well…” The older man had a strange look on his face, one that struck fear into Jon’s core, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing his only-so-slightly (as he insisted whenever the topic of their height was brought up) taller frame, couldn’t stop his vision from flitting to the way Arin’s bare feet on the carpet turned at a right angle and the blonde streak in his hair, only to be snapped out of his stupor.

“How did you not notice, man?”

“Whw-whwhw- me?” Jon felt like he wanted to shrivel up and curl up on the ground.  _Ah, very smooth, Jon._  “I mean,” and he cleared his throat and coughed and and directed his eyes away (he just noticed himself staring again) and fucking nearly started whistling like one of those cartoon characters. “Yeah, sorry. I dunno. Wasn’t paying attention, or, like, yeah. Whatever.” He cleared his throat again and then immediately mentally kicked himself because  _you just cleared your throat a second ago, you idiot, now he definitely thinks something’s up_.

“Whatever.” He said again, more to himself than to his confused ( _he’s so fucking_ adorable _confused_ , Jon couldn’t stop himself from thinking) companion, and hastily took a Playstation controller into his hands.

“We’re, uh, not playing Playstation. No need for Sonic 06, because we’re not grumping today. Remember?” Arin’s brow only furrowed deeper in concern as he spoke. “Look, hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

He put the shiny black controller gingerly back onto the low table. “A-ah… Right. Yes.”

Arin rolled his eyes and his face lost its look of consternation as he sighed and placed a hand on Jon’s trembling ( _he’s touching you he’s touching he’s touching_ ) shoulder.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Jon. Taking a break from grumping will do us both good.”

“Y-yeah? If it’s such a big deal to you, why don’t you spend it with Suzy?”

“Because I want to spend it with you.”

The words were barely real, they barely registered and Jon knew he had the weirdest look of disbelief and absolute “are you for fucking REAL?” written all over his face but of course that didn’t stop him from stammering out another internal-kick-to-the-brain reply.

“You- I- me- what?”

_Eloquent as ever. A real winner._

“Well-” Arin grinned sheepishly and looked away and quickly and Jon wanted to throw himself onto the floor and writhe because how cute was that- “Yeah! So… don’t leave, yeah? If you ever need to talk about anything, just talk to me. I promise I’ll always be here.”

He couldn’t hold back, so he didn’t. Jon threw his arms around his best friend that he was hopelessly head over heels for and drew their bodies close together. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged him, as sensually as he was now, and he wanted to cry.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m definitely gonna propose to Suzy one day.”

Jon said nothing back. He didn’t know what to feel. Of course Arin was going to propose, they were made for each other. Then why did he have to beat himself up over this? Why did he have to be-?

“And I love Suzy to the ends of the earth.”

The small grin on his face grew wider. 

“But I love you too. You’re my everything. Just like Suzy.”

And then it happened. Jon felt a small warmth on his cheek for a second. It took several moments for him to realize that he had been kissed. A quick peck, nothing more, but. Instantly, he felt his face flush. The reality of what Arin’s words meant kicked in a second later.

Arin watched Jon look up, his friend’s eyes growing big, the bigger man still in his arms. 

“You… love me?”

“Always.”

*

“But why did you have to-…”

The same man who had promised his love always now huddled pathetically in his chair, his knees drawn up to his chest. To a casual observer, it could easily have been the cold weather talking. But an attentive person would have noted the soft sobbing and the hiccups between breaths. 

“I thought-”

His eyes, shadowed, dark, and misty, spoke as if he had lost someone close to him.

“Don’t you…  _want_  to be a Game Grump?”

It certainly felt that way after all.


	11. Happy Anniversary

“You know,” Jon threw himself backwards onto the bed, laughing a little when he bounced up once, twice, from the impact. “It’s  _actually_  been like, I dunno, a fuckin’ year?" 

"More than.” said Arin, as he shrugged his rucksack off his shoulder and let it hit the ground with a thump. 

“Ahh, fucking Magfest though,” Jon closed his eyes as he exhaled,  _whoooo_ , out. “The NormalBoots guys, they-" 

 His voice was cut short by Arin’s finger on his lips, and his eyes shot open immediately. "Just shut up and kiss me?" 

Through the finger on his lips, Jon smiled, and parted his lips enough to let the finger rest on the opening. Slowly, he pushed his tongue softly, breathing hard, feeling flush– showing all the signs of  _that_. Arin didn’t bite. 

"Not now. But,” the older man swooped down and stole a soft kiss, no tongue or anything serious but soft and meaningful  _and the first in over a year–_  "Maybe later.“ 

"But Aaaaarin-” Jon whined. It felt so good to say that name, like that, again. “I  _neeeeeeeeed_  you.” He rolled over onto his side to look at Arin making himself comfortable right next to him, his face now resting inches away from his own on the pillow next to his. 

“And… I’m not gonna lie, I need you too. Right now.” He stole another kiss, much to Jon’s pleasant happiness. “So fucking badly, dude. But we can’t… right now. Okay?”

“Mm.” Jon pouted, crossed his arms like a child, like he knew Arin would find cute. “Fine. But if you’re gonna be an ass like that, no more kisses for you.” He hid a smirk.

“Like that would benefit either of us,” Arin chuckled quietly. He leaned in one more time, and closed the gap between them for the last time that lazy afternoon. 

 

“For real, though, you just do some things and you gotta reflect on them and they’re just really fuckin’ gay, you know?” Jon laughed, in the arms of his maybe-once-more-god-please-I-miss-him-so-much best friend. Spooning was something Jon could always get down with, even though he was more used to being the big spoon. But being the little spoon wasn’t  _too bad_ \- it made more sense, after all, since Arin was a bit taller anyway, and it was a pleasant change to have his own hair ruffled from time to time, to have someone (Arin, no less) bury his face in his mane of black hair and leave soft nibbles and kisses on his ear– it was nice to have all that happen to him, instead of being the instigator like he was more used to. It was nice, indeed.

“Says you. Right after an hour of second base?" 

"Hmmm,” Jon squirmed in an attempt to burrow deeper into the warm, melty envelope of Arin’s embrace. “Felt more like vanilla ol’ first to me." 

"What, that wasn’t fucking  _gay_  enough for ya?” He felt Arin grin behind him, even if he couldn’t see him. 

“How’s this?” Somehow, Arin pushed their bodies closer together, and then he  _felt_  it–

“Is that a fuckin’ boner? Shit, man.” Jon laughed, but maybe a teeny tiny bit of nervousness had crept in to his voice. “What happened to ‘not now’?" 

"I’m not saying you should do anything about it,” Arin whispered into his ear, one finger trailing down from Jon’s ruffly hair to his sideburns and down his sensitive cheek, tracing his beard, finishing by cupping his chin. “Just letting you know that  _that_  big old gay floppy penis is right there. For you." 

Jon smirked, his eyes turning to look at Arin behind him as best as he could, in the corner of his vision. "For me, huh?" 

"Mm.” Arin’s voice had dropped an octave or two now. It was husky. Jon could recognize it, the silky smooth syrupy deepness of his professional narrator voice, and he revelled in it. His eyes felt drawn to the ceiling, as he reflected on what he had. He had a lot of things; a wonderful girlfriend, supportive crew that doubled as friends, loving and supportive family, and now…

He had Arin, too. 

* * *

Jon dumped his bags on the ground, right next to his feet, as he dropped himself into a chair. The ride over had been exhausting, just as exhausting as every other trip to Magfest. He remembered the days of Magfests past, the good times and memories set in stone that he would never forget, including the incredible stories, albeit with the rose tint. Things had… changed, since those, anyway. He sipped from his drink,  _aah_ -ing at the refreshing coolness. For a shitty plastic chair, the Magfest’s canteen accommodations certainly provided a much welcomed change to the stuffiness of the car his gang had come over in. He closed his eyes, revelling in the wonder of having leg room and space for his bigger frame, sighing. This year he certainly hoped nothing would go colossally wrong.  _Please, God, if you’re out there. Let me have this._

He opened his eyes, and then he saw him. 

He saw him standing there, and shit. Still as good as he looked last time, with his wife on one side and his friends on the other. 

_Hell, he looks… even better._

Jon smiled wryly.  _It’s nice to see that someone coped well._  He thought back to the drinks, the mess the blur the haze of the days and months after it happened. The nights. The emails, the  _comments_ –

He shook himself out of it and averted his gaze once more, eyeing down his drink on the table, held forlornly in his hand. How a drink could even be 'forlorn’, he didn’t know, but now he felt thoroughly… dampened. 

Slowly, he picked up the straps of his bag, his equipment, and with a bowed head he stood at his table. He stole one more glance, at the happy family of  _Grumps_ -

Their eyes met. In those eyes, there was no contempt, no hatred, no  _hard feelings_  like Jon probably had, he could see. No, just the same old unyielding gaze they had always had. And then it was gone. 

 

Jon felt alone. More alone than he had ever, since that time. But amidst the loneliness, there was most certainly a spark of hope.

* * *

“I’m glad– _”_ Arin panted, a string of saliva connecting their tongues, both men flushed. “–that we saw each other. Today." 

"Mm, yeah?” Jon leant in, pushing his tongue between Arin’s lips, the hand under Arin’s shirt roving and squeezing at his flesh, pinching and teasing and lightly circling erogenous zones that would soon lead to something more. Hopefully. He swiped his tongue over Arin’s upper lip, biting down softly on it and pulling, ever so gently. 

“I thought it was over,” A quick suck on Jon’s bottom lip and one more kiss on his nose. “Forever. You know?”

“Idiot.” The making out stopped, for all of a few seconds, and Jon put his a hand on each side of Arin’s face, turning him so they could face each other, eye to eye. “You can’t just break a bond like that.” And then he kissed him, deeply, to prove it. 


	12. Click Click

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-grumps

The oven dinged, and Arin slipped on Suzy’s pink mitts. He was careful to tie the ribbons, and put the velcro straps in place. He didn’t want to accidentally burn them, it would be better to have them where they should be.

They’re cute though. He smiled a bit at the thought of her… But he smiled more when he thought of who he was going to meet for the first time today.

With careful precision, he pulled the tray of cookies out, making sure there was no contact with his skin and the edges allowed. He hummed to himself as he brought the tray a bit closer to his face, taking a whiff of chocolatey doughy sweetness.

Hopefully a good welcome present. Arin thought to himself.

Suddenly, the doorbell buzzer rang, and he nearly dropped the tray, unused to the sudden sound after cooking in an empty house for hours.

“Oh, sh&!.”

Quickly, Arin turned to the kitchen counter, then eyed the tray. He wanted to be able to answer the door like a good host, but he didn’t want to greet his guest in his pink apron and Suzy’s oven mitts. He turned back to the front door. He could see someone standing outside.

But the first rule of host etiquette… He was waging a war in his mind and his eyes flitted from the door to the kitchen, from the cookies to the figure on his porch, and he eyed the ribbons and straps he had fixed on the mitts with such care earlier.

“Ah… Fuck it.” He strode into the kitchen, placing down the tray on the counter and, hearing the doorbell ring a second time, sprinted towards the front door. He pulled it open, and Jon Jafari stood before him.

“Ah… Hey, Egoraptor.”

“Oh, uh, hey, Jon.”

“Y-you, uh, greet people like this often?” He smiled sheepishly.

“What, this? This is just my normal attire, man. Come on in.” He made space for his bearded acquaintance to enter, sweeping a hand like a good host would.

“Real talk, though. I, um, made you some cookies.” Jon blushed, just a little.

“O-oh, uh. Really? You didn’t have to do that, y’know.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I wanted to.” he said as he fumbled with the apron’s knot. He might have been able to laugh it off, but he still wanted to look presentable, and he had to admit, he was a little embarrassed.

“Well, uh… Thanks, Ego.”

“It was seriously no problem, bro.”


End file.
